


Family Vacation

by Banashee



Series: Tear Down The Walls (IronHawk Verse) [5]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Team as Family, superheroes deserve a break too!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19805578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banashee/pseuds/Banashee
Summary: Everybody needs a break every now and then. So do our favourite superheroes.This was mainly an excuse for some fluff and humor, because the Avengers deserve happiness.(...)“Good news is, the repairs will start tomorrow morning. Bad news is it'll take a while.”He is still wearing parts of his suit, which are broken and bent, and it looks like they're difficult to get off. Tony puts his phone away, pulls out a interesting looking tool, and starts going at it while he flops down on the was-once-a-couch in between Clint and Steve.“So, I vote we get the fuck out of here for a while, who's with me?”(...)





	Family Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there,  
> thanks for being here!  
> There are no warnings for this one, besides profanity and tooth rotting fluff.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Family Vacation**

“Fuck doombots, fuck this mess and fuck Victor Von Doom in particular.”

Clint's angry bitching finally comes to a halt as he flops down on the couch, or what might once have been said piece of furniture. Now it's mostly stuffing, wood, expensive fabric in shards and random spring feathers, one of which is poking him as soon as he sits down. The archer snarls, still in his uniform and dirty boots still on, and jumps up again, rips it out and aggressively sits down again.

“Aye.” and a lazy nod is all he gets in response from their Resident God Of Thunder, who lies down face first on the rubble of concrete, glass and metal that is currently littering their living room floor. It doesn't seem to bother him as long as he can get horizontal.

“Seriously, fuck everything. I'm done.” That one is actually Natasha, and the string of murderous sounding Russian she's spitting after that... They agree. All of them. Everyone is done.

The attack happens out of the blue earlier that day, while everyone is minding their own business. Suddenly the windows are exploding, and while most of them are scattered around in the gym, kitchen and lab, one of the doombots breaks right through Bruce's bathroom wall while the scientist is taking a shower... He turns green right then and there to throw the two bots that were trying to enter right back through the hole in the wall and into the next building. Then he runs off with a roar to find more of these dang bots.

Which would have been fine, if only Hulk had worn any pants.

Not this time though.

This battle has a code “giant zucchini blowing in the wind” and yeah, they all know why every Avenger usually carries a pair of spare stretchy pants for their friend whenever they go into battle.

It takes a while and the work is tedious. They've been stretched thin before, and it seems like this day was the last straw. All of them need a break.

While Steve is picking shards of metal and glass out of his uniform, Tony comes back into the room and hangs up his phone.

“Good news is, the repairs will start tomorrow morning. Bad news is it'll take a while.”

He is still wearing parts of his suit, which are broken and bent, and it looks like they're difficult to get off. Tony puts his phone away, pulls out a interesting looking tool, and starts going at it while he flops down on the was-once-a-couch in between Clint and Steve.

“So, I vote we get the fuck out of here for a while, who's with me?”

Various groans of agreement echo back.

“I'll call Reed. He can have the Fantastic Four on call, unless the world is ending.”

“Y'think he's gonna do it just like that?”

“Yes.”

“How? You know him...”

“Yes. And I'll be asking him nicely to do us this favor” When he says that, Steve works his jaw, and leans his head back with a sigh, before he straightens again to make the phone call. Superhuman or not, they're all in need of a few days of peace and quiet.

It's a matter of minutes, and everything is set. They pack their bags, and go to bed to nap for a few hours, then they're on their way to the little farm in Iowa.

*+~

Doing nothing feels like heaven. It's rare, that they get to do whatever, without possibly being interrupted at any given time of day or night. The space in the little farm house may be limited, not to say cramped with the six of them, but it feels comfortable, cozy. All of them bathe in that feeling.

Clint occupies part of the couch, feet tucked under his legs while he's buried in his book, “Reaper Man”. The archer keeps grinning and laughing quietly to himself, vividly imagining Windle Poons and his undead shenanigans. He's read this book multiple times, including that time he'd spent in medical to keep Tony company after a nasty head injury, all those years ago before they'd even been a couple, and he remembers it fondly, loves reading it again and again, never getting tired of it.

He is propped up against Thor, who started to learn to crochet, which should be something that's nearly impossible for someone with enormous hands like his, but their resident God of Thunder creates the pattern with ease, looking calm and relaxed in very midgardian, mismatched assortments of comfy clothing and a messy bun on top of his head. There are even crumbs stuck in his beard, and he looks totally content with it all.

On the opposite side, spread across the arm chair with a dozing Lucky on his lap, Steve looks up from his pencil sketch with a slightly amused look, when Natasha enters the room and exclaims,

“Jesus, Clint, go get a spoon, you heathen.”

To which he just shrugs and takes another bite of his roll of cookie dough, which he has a habit of eating like a burrito. Not that anyone on the team would be one to talk against that; they all have their comfort food.

Besides, he's watched both Thor and Steve, on multiple occasions, cut a loaf cake open like a sandwich, spread a tub of frosting across it and inhale the whole thing in record time, all while having a casual conversation.

Clint is offering Nat a piece of his prey, which she takes with a lopsided smile and fond shake of her head, before proceeding to pull out a bottle of nail polish, curl up on the free space on the couch and carefully, precisely, painting her toenails in a glittery, burgundy shade.

In the meantime, little balls of cookie dough are flung across the room, because if he's gonna share it he doesn't want to leave anyone out, but sticky fingers are hindering both drawing and crocheting. Literally no one bats an eye at Steve and Thor catching the offered snack mid-air and happily going back to their business after.

The room is quiet, only filled with the scratch of Steve's pencil and the chatter from Tony and Bruce, who have spread piles of paper and themselves on the kitchen table and are discussing science, ideas and theories. Coffee mugs leave stains on messy notes, and they look happy and animated in whatever the hell it is they're discussing – no one else cares enough to try and follow.

Something tucks on Clint's legs, and when he looks up from his book (in the middle of the hunt after the live compost heap, how rude!) Natasha has snatched his feet to paint his nails – hers are all done, and she seems to want to keep going. He lets her.

“Y'think that's gonna help my weird hobbit feet?” he asks nonchalantly, and she answers, without missing a beat,

“No, but that's not gonna stop me.” and grins without looking up. Whatever, it's a pretty color.

Thor leans over his friend to look what's going on.

“'Tis a mighty shade of red, indeed!”

“Good, you're next.” Nat answers, and while that statement from her mouth normally freezes blood in peoples veins, Thor just beams at her and continues with his intricate granny pattern of yarn.

By the time the two (more or less) crazy scientists join them, all of them are sporting the same, glittery shade.

“Wait, why is everyone suddenly more fabulous than I am?” Tony asks, and is met with groans and laughter.

Nat is already on the way for her next victims, looking very pleased with herself, her smile widening slightly when Bruce takes the opportunity to kiss the top of her bright red hair while she's busy painting away.

*+~

In the end, they do get a full week plus a half in Iowa, before they're needed back in New York.

They know the time is very limited, but they enjoy it even more so.

There are the quiet days, where they spend their time either inside and cuddled up, or spread on the grass in the backyard when the days are warmer. On those days, they take the dinner outside, and spend the night in front of a bonfire, which is a tradition by now.

Hot days in the sun, fighting with water guns instead of real weapons, laughter filling the air. In times like these, smiling is easy and the things they all carry on their backs are just a little bit lighter, just for a moment.

They need it.

And fucking hell, they deserve some peace and quiet just like everyone else – maybe even more so.


End file.
